


Salem Shorts

by Archangel_Beth, incandescens



Category: In Nomine
Genre: F/M, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Beth/pseuds/Archangel_Beth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/incandescens/pseuds/incandescens
Summary: Salem, the Angel of Cities, doesn't get much canon attention. But Word-bound totally have adventures on their own, even if they're not Superiors!





	1. Legos

* * *

Legos

Salem peered at the paint-winged Mercurian in her nook of the Catacombs. "Er, what are you doing here, sir?"

Eli looked up, grinning. "I just snuck the _coolest_ idea out of the Halls of Progress. C'mere, let me show you..."

Salem came over. She observed how the little blocks connected together. How they built. How the Archangel already had part of a small village set up. The blocks were within her fingers without her even thinking about it. "Move over," she murmured. "I'm going to _build._ "

*****

(incandescens adds:)

_Later, Salem was seen extending the lego fortifications into the Halls of Judgment. When asking a watching Dominic to move his tail, she explained that the feng shui demanded a wall right there._


	2. This Old City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sariel and Undauntra had a hand in this.
> 
> * * *

**This Old City**

Asmodeus, Djinn Prince of the Game, eyed the white-winged and haloed creature before him. His black robes contrasted with her taupe business suit. His horns -- an affectation, to set him more dramatically apart from the damned souls -- contrasted with her fluffy feathers and smooth brow.

The Balseraph on the ground, its neck pinned there by the groove in her matching taupe heels, contrasted even more with the Mercurian's appearance.

The Prince moved a hand slightly, indicating that the various Tether-guards should stand down, and all the other demons in the room relaxed. "Enough," he said for her benefit. "I will handle this. Deal with the corporeal locus or your other duties. Dismissed."

The Tether-staff were eager to comply, and soon the Seneschal was the only one left in the room -- since the angel hadn't moved her foot yet.

Asmodeus chose his words carefully. "Lady Salem, Angel of Cities... Why are you in Hades?"

Briskly, she stepped off the Balseraph's neck (letting it take the opportunity to flee) and approached him. Unexpectedly, instead of stopping, bowing, or expressing any sort of deference at all, she reached out and snagged his pendant-sigil on its heavy chain around his neck. Further, she continued marching for the door behind him, apparently expecting him to be towed along.

He would have stood his ground, except that her next clipped words were, "Because Hades is a _city_ , you idiot. And it's a wretched shame what you're doing to it."

Startled again, he _did_ allow himself to be towed after her, bending slightly and putting his hands behind his back. It would undoubtedly shock any Servitors, but he was hardly insecure in his power. "You... want to give _Hades_ a makeover? And you think I will allow this?"

Salem glanced over her shoulder at him, her grin bright and flashing in the light of her halo. "Oh, definitely. After I'm done here, I'll start on Shal-Mari."

Without a second thought, Asmodeus gently detached her hand from his jewelry and instead folded it into the crook of his arm. "My dear," he purred, "the fastest way to the exit is this way. Do you have some suggestions for the traffic, while you're here?"


	3. And That Old City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LJ user celeloriel demanded a sequel!
> 
> * * *

**And That Old City**

Andrealphus sulked into the room, having had his fawning admirers stripped off him at the entry, and flung himself into a chair dramatically. "I _fail_ to see _why_ the Game is harassing us _again_!" he declaimed.

Kobal slouched in the opposite chair, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and untucked, and his pants showing signs of being grabbed off the floor and passing a very cursory "sniff test." He shrugged. "They're the Game. Azzie gets off on it."

"He does _not_ ," Andrealphus sniffed. "I would _know_."

Next to Kobal, Haagenti -- in his typical fuzzy vessel -- gnawed thoughtfully on the table. He appeared to be trying to make it last. Confirming Andre's suspicions that some of Kobal's clothing was food-stained, though, the Prince of Gluttony was eying his ally's pants with a base hunger that was not to Andre's liking.

Kobal ignored his "brother's" obvious designs on his garments, and shrugged again. "He wants to call a meeting, introduce us to someone who's supposed to 'clean up Shal-Mari,' and throw his weight around. Same old same old. Maybe this next 'chief of police' will be . . . funny."

"Or yummy," Haagenti mumbled through the wood.

"Or attractive," Andrealphus mused.

Kobal rolled his eyes.

"Just because _you_ choose to live in a slum that makes 'bachelor pad' sound like 'pimp playhouse'--" Andrealphus began.

He was interrupted by the door slamming open and a carefully blank-faced Lilim entered the room. "The Prince of the Game and his . . . outside consultant . . . are here."

Andrealphus barely had time to ogle the Lilim before she stepped out of the way, revealing her master's dark, swirling robes. With his normally-saturnine face bearing an uncharacteristic, smug, small smile, Asmodeus paced through the door.

On his arm was an angel, white-winged and light-haloed. Her neat business suit made Kobal's ragged clothing seem twice as ragged, and even Andrealphus' own leathers and lace became perhaps a touch overdone. Haagenti stopped in mid-gnaw, his eyes going a bit rounder and even bulging upward to get a better look.

As the Mercurian surveyed the three Princes of Shal-Mari, a small, smug smile on her own face, Andrealphus set his jaw. Oh, he'd see what this wretched little fluffwing wanted . . . He concentrated.

Meanwhile, Asmodeus purred, "This is Salem, the Angel of Cities. She has some _suggestions_ , some very fine and reasonable _suggestions_ , to which, my associates, I assure you will heed."

Salem let her hand slip from the crook of the Game-Prince's arm, and began to speak. Something about _feng shui_ , traffic patterns, and complete demolishment of that wretched cake-like structure Haagenti called a palace. Andrealphus ignored it, focusing on her . . .

. . . and then his jaw dropped. He rubbed at his eyes, hardly trying to make it sultry at all, and took in the evidence his senses were confirming. The slightly wrinkled place around her shirt's neck; the crease at the back of her skirt, barely showing; the lipstick shading slightly differently, as reapplication might require. His eyes, horrified, darted to Asmodeus, and there, not quite cleared away from the very edge of the Djinn's collar -- lipstick.

Muffling a groan, Andrealphus sank back in his chair. There would be no use arguing, and it wasn't, as Kobal was trying to imply, a joke. They'd just have to endure. It was always bad when the Game-master brought a girlfriend.


End file.
